Special K
by Doc Stewart
Summary: A very different take on the W/K relationship. Ch. 6: "All Your Questions Are Answered." (Most of them, anyway.)
1. Ever So Close

Special K  
  
by Doc Stewart  
  
Synopsis: Post episode 16, Willow sleeps fitfully while Kennedy muses and remembers a long-ago past. A very different take on the Willow / Kennedy relationship.  
  
Author's note: This idea came to me after watching episode 13, and noting that Kennedy seems much too effective at handling magic, especially for someone who supposedly doesn't believe in it.  
  
Copyright: All characters copyright of Mutant Enemy; I'm just borrowing them under the good graces of ME and Fox. Original story copyright 2003.  
  
Distribution: Please ask first (dr_stewart@hotmail.com), but I will generally grant permission to redistribute this story, with proper credits.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Spoilers: Through Season 7, Episode 16  
  
Shameless plug: If you like this story, my story "Inner Demons," (story id 893080), and its sequel, "Knights in Rusted Armor," (story id 982150), share certain similarities.  
  
Chapter 1: Ever So Close  
  
She's finally asleep, now. She had been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, occasionally repositioning her body to find a more comfortable position. I know, because I was awake, too. I could sense her. And, occasionally, I'd furtively glance over the side of the bed to look at her.  
  
She still sleeps on the floor, of course.  
  
I understand that she doesn't want to have sex. Between her guilt over Tara and her fear that it will all happen again the next time she makes love, it's the last thing she wants to do right now. But I wish that she would at least be up here, and that we could at least hold each other. Despite what the others think, we've barely held hands and kissed a few times.  
  
She doesn't understand how much I need her. How much I love her.  
  
Of course she doesn't, I sharply remind myself. She thinks you're just a nice young girl whose Slayer hormones have kicked in prematurely. She's afraid that with even the small opening she's allowed, she's just using me to ease her pain, like Buffy did with Spike. That she can't possibly betray Tara, and that she isn't worthy of anyone's love ever again, even if it wasn't betraying Tara. There is a spark of attraction, of hope, of what might someday become love. But it's small, and it's flickering.  
  
I could have read all of this by hearing the quiver in her voice, the slight but constant shivering in her body language. It's not just that I can read her auras perfectly and sometimes hear her thoughts, although I try to block those out.  
  
So I can also tell that her instincts are telling her that there's something a little too different about me, a little too perfect, although she's still pushing those thoughts away. Right now, she's chalking her instincts up to the obvious difference in skill level and confidence between me and the rest of the SITs. That's making things much easier than they might otherwise be.  
  
Still, I can't help but be a little disappointed. Her instincts are perfectly right. She should learn to trust them more.  
  
I'm drawn back to her by soft muffled cries coming from the floor. She's having more nightmares. About Tara being shot, about her going mad with grief and rage, killing Rack, skinning Warren, trying to kill Dawn, trying to kill her friends, and otherwise becoming everything she swore she'd never become. She put so much into seeing herself as a fighter for Wholesome Goodness, after all. It helped her to keep her inner demons at bay, at least for a while. And now that defense against her self is gone. She'll never see herself as being Wholesome Goodness again.  
  
I know all this because I'm watching her nightmares. I have to.  
  
At least she doesn't really remember the trying to end the world part. She knows she did something really bad after absorbing the coven's magical essence that caused her to be in a field with a demonic temple. Something labeled as "attempted to destroy the world," but it hasn't really sunk into her psyche. Thank Goddess it hasn't. She'd try to kill herself within minutes if it did.  
  
Not that it was her fault, anyway. I suddenly notice that my hand is clenching up. I force my hands open, and see the bloody marks where my fingernails had been, again. Crap. I'm still enraged about it.  
  
It's not like I don't have good reasons. Yes, she had become an evil monster. Yes, she was doing very bad things. But she hadn't become a harbinger of the apocalypse. That took a committee.  
  
Hey there, Super Buffy, your best friend is lost in a storm of self-hatred. I've got it, says Super Buffy, let's kick her ass! Mr. Pointy sure does solve everything, damned sure.  
  
Hey there, Mr. Rupert Giles, your other surrogate daughter's got a little problem. Her grief and rage is churning every bit of magical power she can find into a lethal brew destroying her mind. I've got it, says Mr. Giles, my coven colleagues and I will load her up with even more magical power, more than any human has ever had before! That will put her in touch with her inner beauty, guaranteed. Bloody hell, I'm so damned smart.  
  
Emphasis on the "damned."  
  
Fortunately, some of us real professionals were there, after all. And thank Goddess for Xander, who managed to find some small spark inside Willow, and distract her long enough for us to pull the plug safely. This dimension wouldn't have ended, but if it wasn't for him, things could have gotten out of hand. We might have lost her.  
  
I'm drawn out of my rage-stoking reverie by a terrible whimpering noise coming from the floor. Her nightmares have changed.  
  
Oh, no.  
  
I can feel Willow suffer as she watches image after image of herself killing and destroying, as if she was a finely tuned instrument of destruction. She works ever so quickly and efficiently, despite the screams, despite desperate pleas, despite all the blood. Humans, demons, good, bad, indifferent, whatever. She's supposed to kill them, so she does. It's what she's meant to do. It's as if it's what she was created to do.  
  
At least when she wakes up, she thinks they're just nightmares, more symptoms of her guilt for her crimes. But these nightmares are getting longer every night. And a part of her mind - small, but growing fast - is beginning to figure it out.  
  
How will I tell her the truth, that they're not really nightmares? That what she's seeing what really happened?  
  
How will I ever tell her that I have the same nightmares?  
  
I don't know. But I will have to figure something out, and soon. I just wish, in some small way, that she could help me. She was always the smart one.  
  
* * *  
  
At last she's really fallen asleep. Her body's screams for some small bit of rest have finally been answered. The nightmares have stopped, at least for now. She'll be completely out for the next few hours. An army of screaming demons wouldn't wake her.  
  
Which is good. Between that, Buffy out patrolling, and the rest of the house either fast asleep or desperately trying to hide under their covers, it's easy for me to get out of the house.  
  
Now I can feed properly.  
  
The last body I "appropriated" in this dimension - well, let's not go there. It had issues. This body, however, has what I need. The former occupant really was a potential Slayer. So, this body has demonic essences, which made it easy to modify it for my own personal needs. I smile slightly, and lick my lips.  
  
More importantly, the body's supernatural nature is what I need to maintain a connection to my real body back home, in my own personal hell dimension. Actually, it's more of a heck dimension now - there's been so much progress. I just wish that Willow was able to appreciate it.  
  
From what I can tell, the former occupant wasn't a bad girl. Nice, friendly, loved her Mum and Dad, loved her sister, especially since she had a separate wing. Bit snobbish, though. And cocky. But even so, it was a real shame the First's Harbingers killed her. She was actually the first to go. It was a real mess. I should know - I was secretly there, watching. Real shame I couldn't save her. It took a while to get the body fixed up after the Harbingers were done, too. But this is war, and sacrifices have to be made. And it's not like she would have lasted much longer at Chez Summers.  
  
I bite my lip slightly. Poor girls. The truth is that they're cannon fodder, and we all know it. The other truth is that I could use my powers to save them from the First's attacks - at least right now. It's a real shame that doing so would tip the First off to my presence, which would ruin everything. And then the SITs would surely die. So every day and night I force myself not to call on my real abilities, hoping that I won't hear yet more screams.  
  
Did I mention that this is war, and sacrifices have to be made?  
  
The real question is why the others haven't questioned why I'm the only SIT who doesn't look like demon chow. So far, they haven't gotten any farther then making snide comments about me really being Lara Croft.  
  
My musings come to an end, as I've reached the cemetery. Now it's showtime.  
  
I start scanning intensely, looking for both Buffy and vamps. I need to make sure I don't run into Buffy - it's one confrontation I want to avoid right now. So what I really need to find are some vamps that are as far away from the Slayer as possible.  
  
It only takes me a few seconds to find a nice little group a good half-mile from Buffy. Three of them. Ideal.  
  
I quickly walk within hearing range of their group. It's time to put on my patented Little Girl Lost routine. I start sniffling, loudly.  
  
I can sense their ears prick up immediately. Many vampires will put on a good act of helping a lost little girl before they rip her neck open. These are no exception. They emerge suddenly from out of the shadows.  
  
"Hey there, don't cry. What's a pretty little girl like you crying her eyes out in a place like this?"  
  
I sob into my arms. "I'm so sad, hurting so badly. Please help me. Please?" I whisper, plaintively.  
  
They change into their game faces, thinking I can't sense what they're doing. "Sure, we'll help you," says one, his voice practically dripping with hunger. "What's the matter? Just tell Uncle Biff and everything will be okay."  
  
I suddenly jerk my head up. They aren't the only creatures of the night with game faces. And mine is one they have never seen before. It's not designed to suck on soft and fleshy humans. It's designed to rip apart armored demons. It's complete overkill against these pathetic little vamps, but, oh well. I either go with the first class weaponry, or I don't go.  
  
"Oh, lovely," I whisper. "I'm so sad because I've just been so very hungry. I'm so very glad you're going to let me eat you."  
  
They do something vampires almost never do. They scream. I smile, brandishing my saber-length fangs. Dinner is served.  
  
* * *  
  
Unfortunately, I had to eat quickly. Super Buffy heard their screams, and thought they were from people. Sigh. I so hate fast food. But hey, it's a major improvement over burned macaroni and cheese, or cold pizza.  
  
I managed to finish gorging myself, with seconds to spare. Unfortunately, I have to leave some dust behind. Buffy might pick it up, and wonder who else is staking vampires. But that's better than wondering who or what is leaving ripped-apart vamp chunks.  
  
I hurry back to Chez Summers, before anyone wakes up and notices I'm missing. As I get close, I realize someone's awake. Crap.  
  
Oh. False alarm. It's Giles.  
  
I quietly open and walk through the front door. I'm careful to avoid making a noise, although I don't have to worry about sneaking past Giles unseen. I sense him looking at me through the pale moonlight in the room.  
  
[Find anything?] he silently asks.  
  
[Three vamps. Rather tasty.] I grin at him.  
  
He shudders slightly. [That's not what I meant.]  
  
[I know. No evidence of the First. It's laying low, for now. Trying to figure out its next move. Cosmic entities woven into the fabric of space and time aren't that bright.]  
  
He nods. He muffles a sigh. [We're not exactly playing Scrabble, though, are we? It has all the power.]  
  
[Not all the power. And that may be enough.]  
  
He nods. [How's she doing?]  
  
Now it's my turn to give a muffled sigh. [The nightmares are getting worse. Her guilt and self-hatred are getting worse. The quiet, dark torment in her mind is getting worse. It's killing me to see her like this.]  
  
[She's a strong girl. She'll pull through.]  
  
[Yes. But we're going to need to take the drastic measures I told you about. Very soon.]  
  
He gasps. [Isn't there another way?]  
  
[No. She must become... something stronger... or she will die. The dark powers inside her are growing ever faster. They're already of a magnitude similar to mine. And but a thumbnail of who I am is in this dimension. Her body and mind will not be able to keep them controlled for much longer. I won't let that happen. Not again.]  
  
He seems unsure.  
  
[We almost lost her a few weeks ago, when Amy cursed her. Don't you remember? Or would you like me to show you the gun?]  
  
He nods and shudders..  
  
[And while we're at it, barrier forces guarding the divisions between the worlds don't normally roll over when someone yells at them to open a portal, do they?]  
  
He nods, but he's still unsure. I can tell why.  
  
I sneer at him. [Yes, fine. You're absolutely correct. I want her, too. I need her. We all need her. But I am right about what needs to be done.]  
  
He sighs. I see the "but" forming in his mind.  
  
[She's not your little girl,] I snap. [Neither am I.]  
  
He drops his head, defeated. I don't have to remind him of what happened the last time he went off on a Daddy Knows Best kick. I also know he loves her, deeply. So does Super Buffy. It's why I haven't killed them.  
  
I turn to go upstairs. [I need to go check on her.]  
  
[Yes, I understand. Good night, ... ]  
  
I mentally stop his thoughts. [No. Don't call me that. Don't even think of me as her. She's gone. We can't afford to have any confusion about it.]  
  
He sighs. [Good night, Kennedy.]  
  
* * *  
  
When I get back to her room, she's still out cold. For these few hours every night, she looks so peaceful. I quietly bend down and kiss her forehead. Then I crawl back into bed. The bed we should be sharing together.  
  
I drop my head over the bed and stare at her. It's the old cliché of being "so close, yet so far away."  
  
It seems like such a long time ago, now, even though it was only a few decades ago. When she sacrificed so much to save us. She somehow knew what would happen, knew her soul wouldn't be passing into the Great Beyond just yet. Just before she burned she said that somehow, in some way, she'd come back to us.  
  
As I felt the fireball, watched the flames burn across the sky and heard the distant screams as our enemy fell at last, I swore that I would find her. No matter what it took.  
  
We carefully collected the ashes, and slowly - painfully slowly - reconstituted her. It took years, but in the end we rebuilt her body, better even that at its former peak. Of course, right now it's little more than a museum piece. It rests motionless, with no mind or soul. Its awakening will only come with her return.  
  
Then "all" that was left was to find her. For years, we searched every way we could think of. Magical detection spells, searchers across dimensions, all to no avail.  
  
Then one day she found us. Calling in part on our power to curse some vampire named Angelus with a soul. We've been able to follow her ever since. That doesn't mean we've been able to help her. Not yet.  
  
I will succeed, though. I haven't searched through three hundred dimensions, gone through two human avatars, and spent years watching her suffer to abandon her to forces she can barely comprehend. I love my Willow tree far too much for that.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... 


	2. Offers That Can't Be Refused

Chapter 2: Offers That Can't Be Refused  
  
Next morning. Routine exercises, when suddenly things start to go terribly wrong.  
  
Buffy's leading us potentials in some early morning judo when she's called upstairs to get a phone call. She tasks me to lead the exercises while she's gone. No problem. I can do judo. I even ask the bystanders - Giles, Dawn, and Willow - if they want to join in. They decline, although I can see Dawn give it a real thought. [Slackers,] I think. [They need some more self confidence.] I'm in the middle of thinking of motivational speeches when I sense that something upstairs has gone terribly wrong.  
  
Buffy charges down the basement stairs. "Kennedy!" she yells. "Get away from them! Get away from them now!"  
  
Crap.  
  
"What is it?" I try to ask, innocently.  
  
She stares at me. "You... I trusted you..."  
  
"What?" I try to pretend uncomprehending.  
  
She turns away from me, towards the rest of the now-shaken audience. "I just got a phone call from some surviving remnants of the Council. They said... that Kennedy was killed months ago by the Bringers."  
  
Double crap.  
  
The potentials gasp and move away from me. I quickly glance over at Willow. She lets out a soft sob... and her eyes start to turn black. Oh, Goddess.  
  
Some times demand detailed planning. Others demand pure instinct, and this is one of them. I punch Buffy hard, knocking her to the floor. I jump down on top of her.  
  
"Does... this... look like a ghost to you?" I yell, bouncing on top of her several times.  
  
She's shaken, but that won't last long. "I'm going to say this exactly once. I don't know what you're talking about, but I swear to you that I have nothing to do with that thing. Absolutely nothing."  
  
Come on Giles, you're my backup on this one.  
  
"Buffy... you see, when the Bringers initially attacked Kennedy, they didn't get her, but they got one of her servants. Before her watcher died, he cast a spell to make the corpse look like Kennedy. That allowed her to get away safely. However, it apparently confused the surviving remnants of the Council."  
  
I sneak a quick glance over at Willow. She's sobbing softly, but her eyes are no longer black. That's a relief.  
  
Buffy is still looking at me suspiciously, though. Still trying to decide if I'm yet one more problem to solve by staking it.  
  
"Is this true?" I nod.  
  
"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
Xander jumps in. "Buffy, she told me about her escape from the Bringers one night after dinner, including the whole corpse-disguising bit. Didn't she tell you?"  
  
Buffy shakes her head. "No. Why not?"  
  
"Honestly, Buffy, I really haven't had much of a chance to talk to you much, other than for training, planning and fighting. None of us have."  
  
I see her relax. Between Giles and Xander, she's clearly outvoted. "Obviously, I need to learn more about you girls," she says.  
  
Xander has once again proven his great value to this operation.  
  
* * *  
  
Xander is my other partner in crime, as it were. He knows even more about me than Giles does. Giles only knows that I am a powerful demonic entity who has some concern about Willow and is siding against the First, and that it is far better to have me fighting with him than against him. Xander, however, knows my real name. Soon, I may trust him to know the whole story.  
  
I had first detected Mr. Harris during last May's crisis. He seemed to be the only one of the Scooby group who was keeping his head when Willow lost control, and who had some inkling of how to talk to Willow correctly. So, we decided to use him. To this day he has no idea how he just knew where go to find Willow, and how he got there so fast.  
  
As for what he said to her - well, that came entirely from him. Good boy. Definitely earned a biscuit that day.  
  
I provided him with the "biscuit" a few months ago, when I was the 2:30 appointment in his office.  
  
"Good afternoon, Miss..."  
  
"Kennedy. You can call me Kennedy."  
  
"Well, then Kennedy, what can we do to help you? Construction? Renovation?"  
  
"No. Actually, I understand that you have frequently provided help of a more - supernatural kind. Something very big and unpleasant is coming to this town. I need your help in fighting it, Mr. Harris."  
  
Xander was taken aback, but pretended to be confused. "Miss?"  
  
"Mr. Harris, you and I both now what exactly what we're talking about, and neither of us have a lot of time. I know you work with the Slayer. I also know that you're very concerned about the awakening of something very unpleasant."  
  
Xander sat forward.  
  
"Does the expression 'From beneath you, it devours' mean anything to you?"  
  
"Well now," he said, "indeed it does. Who are you?"  
  
"That in good time, Mr. Harris. I also know that you're very close to a certain witch named Willow Rosenberg, correct?"  
  
"Yes, but..."  
  
"And that said witch went through a terrible tragedy last May and had a complete nervous breakdown, right?"  
  
Xander was taken aback. I pressed ahead.  
  
"And further, that said witch's breakdown involved skinning her girlfriend's killer, trying to kill her friends, and attempting to burn the world to a cinder, right?"  
  
Xander's eyes widened. I could feel his discomfort level growing. Rapidly. "How... do you know all this?"  
  
"Let me finish. And, further, that you, Alexander Harris, were instrumental in stopping her from destroying the world, and ending the black magic storm that was destroying her?"  
  
He nodded. Nothing like a good ego stroking to assuage discomfort. There was silence for a few seconds.  
  
"Yes. You're absolutely right. Who are you?"  
  
I smiled. "Don't you recognize me? You've seen me before."  
  
He shook his head, although the recognition was breaking through his subconscious, no matter how hard he attempted to pound it back down.  
  
"Think back to that field where you found her, Mr. Harris. Someone else was there besides the two of you."  
  
"What are you talking about... there were only the two of us there, plus that demonic temple to... oh God." The lights suddenly went on in Mr. Harris's head. That meant I had to paralyze him temporarily before he yelled, attacked me, tried to burst out his office or any of the above.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Harris."  
  
I released him a little, to let out whispers. "What do you want?" he whispered.  
  
"First let's talk about what I don't want," I said. "I am not interested in destroying this planet. If I had wanted to do that, I could have done it back in 1926. Or do you think the earthquake that swallowed whole that group of 'devil-worshipping' human trash just happened to have occurred randomly?"  
  
Xander nodded.  
  
"And if I had wanted to end this planet recently, I simply could have killed you when you approached my temple."  
  
Xander nodded.  
  
"And, as you may have picked up from your sudden paralysis, I have the ability to kill you right now. I could also kill Buffy, Dawn, Anya - all of Sunnydale, in fact. But I have not chosen to do so."  
  
Xander nodded. Fast learner. Good boy.  
  
"So now, let's talk about what I do want. I want to help you and the rest of the Slayer's gang fight the evil you're about to face."  
  
Xander looks at me in disbelief. Sometimes I forget that he's secretly one of the biggest believers in that whole "demons bad, people good" crap, Anyanka or no Anyanka.  
  
"Not every demon is evil, Mr. Harris. And even fewer are in league with the First."  
  
He's still looking at me in disbelief. He can be surprisingly dense when it goes against his prejudices.  
  
"The non-evil category includes me," I snapped. "I have seen the First's road of total hatred, pain and destruction first hand in other dimensions, Mr. Harris. I know where that road leads. I do not want to go there. I only want to help you defeat the First. To do that, I need your help."  
  
Xander nods. "What do you want from me?"  
  
"First. A few weeks from now, Rupert Giles will suddenly appear in Sunnydale with a small group of Slayers-in-Training. He will be bringing them to Sunnydale to have the Slayer protect them, train them, and eventually put them to work fighting against the First. I will be in that group, and will be called... do you remember?"  
  
"Kennedy," said Xander.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Harris. You are to forget that you know my true identify, and treat me like any ordinary SIT. Should anyone ever come to doubt that I am one of the SITs, you are to defend my ordinariness immediately. And, of course, you are not to let anyone know that Giles is coming to Sunnydale until he appears."  
  
"Second. Once I arrive as Kennedy, I will become very close to Willow. You will have no objection."  
  
Xander gasped. "But..."  
  
"No buts, Mr. Harris. She's not doing well, is she? Be honest?"  
  
"I don't agree, she's doing so much better..."  
  
"Compared to when she was trying to destroy the world? True, but that's not saying much. I know about her arrival to Sunnydale, when she turned invisible. That's a very serious breach of control, Mr. Harris."  
  
"But..."  
  
"But, she's had numerous other breaches. They haven't been as bad as turning invisible - or worse - but they are increasing. And you know how much she's suffering. You can see it in her eyes. You're losing her, and if you're honest with yourself, you know it."  
  
Xander shifted in his chair. "Well, now, if you know so much about her, what do you recommend we do?"  
  
I laugh. "We? We will not be doing much, other than being as supportive as possible. I will be the one helping her."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Harris," I sigh. "I once faced a similar challenge myself. I know what she's going through. I know how to help her control her mind and her powers. The rest of you do not." I pick up on a thought in his head. "Even Mr. Giles."  
  
"No. There, you're wrong. Giles..."  
  
I let out a terrible laugh. "Mr. Giles is a 'rank arrogant amateur' who almost destroyed the world. Rule number one, Mr. Harris. When someone has gone mad from overdosing herself with magic, the last thing one does is give her more. Whether the magic is dark, white, green, or pink polka- dotted, it's pouring kerosene on a raging fire."  
  
Xander lets out a slow gasp. I can feel the anger rise within him.  
  
"Relax, Mr. Harris. Giles meant well. He does love her, we will need him, and all that. Besides, I'll find ways to make him feel appropriately remorseful."  
  
Xander nods.  
  
"Well, then. This has turned into one heck of a day. By 9 AM, the electrical subcontractors are trying to skip out of working on our new shopping mall for two weeks. By 12 AM, the architect of our new office building is trying to cover one of the outer walls with scrap metal to make a 'statement.' And, by 2:30 PM an inter-dimensional demon queen is making me an offer I can't refuse. God, I love Sunnydale."  
  
* * *  
  
Lunch time break. Willow sits away from me during this meal, much to the interest of the giggling SITs. At least it's something for them to think about other than dying.  
  
She doesn't look at me the whole time. She eats quickly, excuses herself, and walks upstairs to her room. Xander moves to get up from the table to follow her.  
  
[Don't get up,] I think at him. [This is my fault, I'll take care of it.] He nods.  
  
I don't want to make it look like a fight happened, so I wait a few seconds to follow her.  
  
I open the bedroom door, to see her sitting on the bed, head on her knees.  
  
"Willow, I'm..."  
  
"Don't bother," she whispers. "I'm sure you're sorry about what happened downstairs. But that's not the issue."  
  
"Willow, what is..."  
  
"I don't know anything about you, Kennedy. Okay. I know your family is rich and has a big mansion in the Hamptons, that you've got a half-sister, and that you've been playing at being Lara Croft or Buffy since you were 8. Yeah, and that you turn off Moulin Rouge at chapter whatever it is so it will have a happy ending."  
  
"But Willow, you know a lot about me..."  
  
"Oh, yeah. And that you threw yourself at me in record time. You started almost from the moment you got here."  
  
I sit on the bed next to her. "How could I not, Willow? You're so beautiful." I gently touch her cheek. She tenses up, then relaxes.  
  
"Why do you want this so much, Kennedy? Don't you know what it could really mean? What if... what if I'm just using you?"  
  
I sigh. "You're not."  
  
"How are you so sure?"  
  
"I can tell."  
  
"But there's so much I don't know about you, so much I don't understand about this..." I gently put my hand to her lips.  
  
"Willow, I promise I'll tell you anything you want to know, okay? But please, I saw you crying down there, I was so worried about you... I want to make it all better. Won't you let me? Pretty please?" I give her the cutest looking pathetic face I can muster. I gently run my hand across her cheek and lower jaw, and then gently touch her neck.  
  
Willow nods softly. "If you insist." She smiles, for the first time in hours. She also brings her hand up to cover my hand. "I couldn't possibly refuse an offer like that."  
  
"That's because I'm so irrefusable." I smile back at her. "So we're agreed that we can talk later. As much as you want, I promise. But, can I just kiss you now?"  
  
She hesitates for a second, and for that instant I fear I have just made a terrible mistake. But, she soon relaxes, and moves her head forward slightly. My lips touch hers, and my only next concern is to not take things too far.  
  
Until she starts turning back into Warren.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... 


	3. All About the Power

Chapter 3: All About the Power  
  
She recognizes the transformation quickly. At least that's what I think the gasp and awful moan she lets out means.  
  
I quickly smother my body with hers. "Willow - listen to me. This is just a hex cast by that weak, stupid witch Amy. You can break it, sweetie. You have more than enough power."  
  
Willow lets out a sob. "No... can't... he's coming back, he's so strong this time..."  
  
"Yes, you can, Willow. You did it before."  
  
Willow's body shakes and she tries to bury her head in the bed's pillows. "No! I can't!" She sobs again.  
  
Crap. I'm going to have change strategies.  
  
"You weak, worthless little girl," I snap. "I'm so ashamed of you."  
  
Willow stops sobbing, and her body tenses up. That got her attention.  
  
"You heard me. You're so pathetic, I can't believe it. A total loser. Oh yeah, and a junkie, too."  
  
A low growl emerges from the bed. "What did you say?" she whispers.  
  
"You heard me. What would your mom and dad say? Their perfect girl, a little loser junkie."  
  
"Watch your mouth," Warren / Willow snaps.  
  
"Oh yeah? If you really weren't a loser, you'd cut through this hex right now, like it was hot butter."  
  
Warren / Willow growls at me, but she begins straining against the curse.  
  
"That's it, that's it. Prove who you really are."  
  
A few seconds later, her shape wavers, and she's back to being Willow. With solid dark red eyes.  
  
Solid black means trouble. Having her hair turn black means big trouble. Having her veins swell and possibly break open means... well, we've all had an object lesson on what that means.  
  
Dark red, however, I can work with. That precious balance between normal but weak, afraid Willow and powerful but out-of-control Willow. It's risky to maintain the balance for long, especially in a tough magic battle, but I don't have a choice. Amy must be dealt with.  
  
"Willow, I'm sorry I had to do that," I say softly. She sneers.  
  
"Listen to me. Do you know who just laid that curse on you?"  
  
"Amy. That rat is after me again. Probably at the First's bidding."  
  
I nod. "What do you think happened?"  
  
"First probably appeared to her as Rack, maybe all stiff and crusty, maybe not. Told her about me. Told her I killed him. Told her what to do. And we all know she had a thing for being used by that piece of crap. 'Oh, Rack. Use me. Have me. Just give me some of that mojo. Please Racky, oh pleeze....' Little rat." She sneers.  
  
I nod. "Can you locate her?"  
  
She thinks for a second, then nods. "In a meeting of the same coven as last time. Amateur hour, trees and fluffy bunnies crew. She's secretly using their power to boost the hex."  
  
"Can you teleport us there?"  
  
She nods.  
  
"Willow - we need to stop her. Before she does some real damage. Do you understand?"  
  
She nods.  
  
"One more thing - we need to avoid killing her if possible. We're going to need her. Besides, she is being controlled by the First."  
  
"If you insist." She gives me a grin.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
There's a brief flash, and we're there. Showtime.  
  
* * *  
  
A few minutes later, we suddenly materialize in Buffy's living room. Us and a sobbing, quivering, half-conscious mass that is Amy.  
  
The others look at us, shocked. Not at all surprising. Amy's in pretty bad shape, after all. "Dark... cold... burning... oh God..." is all she occasionally sobs.  
  
Willow looks down at Amy, and lets out an "oh, Goddess" herself. She bolts up the stairs to her room, stumbling twice. Not good.  
  
[Xander, go to her, no matter how much she protests.]  
  
Xander just stares at me.  
  
[There was a vicious magic fight with Amy. She won, but some heavy darkness came into play. She needs you. Now.]  
  
A flash of understanding appears, and Xander dashes up the stairs after Willow. A little slow, but still a good boy.  
  
The others just stare at Amy and me for a few seconds, before Buffy breaks the tension. "What the hell happened?" screams Buffy.  
  
Time to act like the paragon of gung-ho-ness and naiveté they think I am. I show them a wide, excited smile.  
  
"Guys, it was so cool! We were upstairs, um... you know, kissing..." some of the SITs giggle, "when suddenly, Willow started turning into that bad Warren guy again." Gasps. "But then a few seconds later, she pulled herself out of it." Relief. "She was pissed, though. Said it was Amy again, and that we had to stop her before she did any real damage. So you'll never guess what happened then." The SITs lean forward.  
  
"Well, first her eyes turned all dark red and glowy. It was a little scary, you know, but it was, like so cool." The SITs are so caught up in this that they don't notice Buffy and Giles gasp. Good morning, lady and gentleman. Time for your wake up call.  
  
"And then, suddenly, there was a big flash, and we were in this lecture hall..."  
  
* * *  
  
And indeed we were in a lecture hall. Same place, same coven as last time. Same ohming, umming, and discussing of bake sales as last time. Two differences, though. Willow looks like a girl, and Willow has dark red eyes.  
  
Willow points at Amy. "Rat," she growls. "Little rat, I've come for you."  
  
Amy jumps up from the coven's circle. The coven leader looks over at us, sharply. The rest of the girls cower.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
"Stay out of this," glowers Willow. "I've come for the rat."  
  
"No. You will answer my question..." This could get messy, so I jump in.  
  
"What my girl here means is that Amy, your prime example of magic-abuse recovery, isn't so recovered. She was the one who turned Willow into that man. And she just tried again. We're here to provide some more radical therapy."  
  
The leader looks extremely annoyed, but does bother to glance over at Amy. "Is this true?"  
  
Amy answers in the affirmative by throwing a fireball at Willow. The leader responds by shrieking.  
  
Willow catches the fireball easily, bounces it up and down a few times, and then makes it fizzle. "Amy, Amy - is that really the best you can do?"  
  
"I'm just getting warmed up," she sneers.  
  
Willow turns to the other members of the coven. "This is between Amy and myself. The rest of you need to leave now."  
  
They hesitate. I spur them on. "Girls, this is so far beyond your... screw it, just discuss the bake sale later. Go. Now."  
  
They promptly run out of the lecture hall, leader included. Now we can get down to business. Amy promptly starts by throwing another fireball at Willow. This one's slightly stronger, but Willow catches and destroys it easily.  
  
Amy starts to look concerned. That last fireball was closer to her maximum than she wants to admit. She conceals it with insults.  
  
"Well, look who's here? Here for more fun? Here to give in to evil? Again?" She stops with the direct magic and instead propels a chair at Willow. The chair promptly explodes into sawdust about 5 feet away from the dark-eyed witch.  
  
"Nope, we're here for you, little rat," says Willow. She crosses her arms. "Has anyone been talking to you lately, telling you things about me? You know, who was dead?"  
  
Amy hisses at Willow. "Yes. The spirit of Rack came and visited me. He told me all about you. What you did. All of it. He told me - he told me I was really his favorite. He told me everything he wanted to do for me. Everything you took away." She throws another fireball at Willow.  
  
Willow just deflects the fireball this time, meaning the university is going to have a very expensive repair bill for the gaping hole in the lecture hall's wall. She sighs. "Oh, waah. I know what he wanted to do. Except it wasn't for you. It was to you. Most of it would have involved you screaming and begging him to stop."  
  
"You lie," Amy hisses. "You took it all away. But soon we'll be even. If I can't hurt you directly, I'll hurt your little pet instead." With that she throws a fireball at me.  
  
Crap. Amy puts just about everything she has into this one. It's lethal. Which means I have to block it, which means showing my power. Fortunately, my split-second reverie comes to an end as the fireball explodes twenty feet away from me. Willow is taking no chances with my safety. She also doesn't seem to notice my eyes briefly flashing violet. That's good.  
  
Willow's also clearly pissed. Her hair is starting to darken. That's less good. She manages to main control, though.  
  
"Listen, little rat, the only reason I haven't sliced you in half is because Kennedy asked me not to. And this... is how you repay her?"  
  
Amy just sneers. [We're still going to need her,] I think. Willow, nods grudgingly. She manages to remain in control.  
  
"Kennedy still doesn't want me to kill you, which is very good for you." says Willow. She takes a deep breath. "So I'm going to say this one time only. Rack is still dead. What you saw was a manifestation of the First Evil, the biggest, baddest big bad of them all. It already tried to attack me, and failed. Now it's using your power to get to me."  
  
Amy shrieks at this. "No. It's not true. You're the one trying to use your power on me. It's all about the power. So let's see how you handle this one." With that, she throws the most pumped fireball she can muster at Willow. Every bit of her energy goes into it. It makes an impressive display when it explodes harmlessly ten feet away from Willow.  
  
Willow sighs. "So it's about power is it? Let me tell you something about power. It comes from more than the ability to throw fireballs. Power also comes from choice. From choosing not be used. Like me, for instance. You could decide as I have done, and choose not to be the First's bitch."  
  
Amy is beginning to swoon noticeably, but she still manages to sneer. "What are you doing lecturing me about power? You're the one who's really weak. You're the one who gave into evil. You're the one who tried to destroy the world," she spits.  
  
Right before being hit with a paralysis spell.  
  
Willow lets out a terrible laugh. "Hey, now. You talk too much. Don't blame me for that whole burning the world thing. Not my fault the stupid humans can't figure out what they want. First one of their champions - Super Buffy - goes out of her way to try to kick my ass, which puts me in a majorly bad mood. Then Daddy - oops, I mean that mage Rupert Giles - and his coven buddies trick me into loading up on their dark magic, which puts me in touch with all the horrible suffering and agony on this planet. What's a girl to do but think the humans want me to take away their pain, and permanently? So I'm in the middle of giving them what they want, when they send a representative - Xander Harris, think you know him - to beg me not to do it. Something about a yellow crayon was involved. Whatever. If the humans want to continue stumbling around, that's their business. So I've changed my scene. I'll never try to waste a dimension again unless I'm damn sure that's what the inhabitants want."  
  
Amy manages to shake slightly. Willow grins at her. "Besides, Amy, if you're so into death for people who threaten this world, does this mean you're going to blow your brains out after we're done here? I mean, you totally qualify. That hex the First had you cast on me was designed to make me go completely insane and destroy this world."  
  
Amy manages to shake back and forth, which I interpret as meaning that she rejects Willow's argument. Too bad, since Willow is correct. But, there's no arguing with some people.  
  
"Of course, I could just kill you now, you know," says Willow. "I mean, you are pretty bad news for a rat. Besides, you tried to get me to kill Kennedy, and you just tried to kill her now. Bad move. She's my Special K. You have no idea how much she means to me. We've been together for a very long time. Seen and done a lot together."  
  
Amy manages to shake in a confused pattern. I'm incredibly touched. For a second, I allow my emotions to well up inside of me - and then I remember that I'm not sure I want her to remember this yet, even in her red-eyed version.  
  
"Besides that, I've already seen her die before, right in front of me. Quite a shock. Went a little crazy after that," she grins. "I'm not going to see it again."  
  
Oh, no. This part she needs to not remember. Fortunately, she's distracted by Amy, who has managed to wriggle out of the paralysis spell.  
  
"You... evil... worm." she spits.  
  
Willow chuckles. "You're just jealous... yes, that's it, isn't it? You're jealous aren't you, little rat? Don't deny it, I can hear your thoughts."  
  
"So what if I am?" sputters Amy.  
  
A twisted grin appears on Willow's face. "So you like magic, do you Amy? Want to have the power? Want to know what it feels like to be me, get the full experience?"  
  
Amy says nothing, but Willow seems to pick out a thought.  
  
"I thought so. Give them what they want, that's what I do." Willow lets out an awful laugh. "As you wish." With that, Willow fires what looks like a purple bolt of lighting at Amy.  
  
Amy's eyes widen, and her face twists into the gaping, drooling smile of an addict who's just been fed the biggest dose of her entire life. "Oh... yes... power, so much power, I can feel it... I am it... wait, something's wrong... what the hell did you just do... it's burning, it's on fire... oh, God!..." And then she says nothing more besides an ear-splitting scream.  
  
Willow smiles at Amy. "What's a matter, Amy? You just wanted to be me, to feel what I feel. So I gave you exactly what you wanted - the me experience, changed not in the least. Now you know what it's like to have all the power. What it's like for me, every second of every day."  
  
Amy collapses to the ground. Her veins become visible, turn black, and begin to swell. Black oil oozes out of her nose and ears. Willow continues smiling.  
  
"Willow, she's learned her lesson. You can turn it off now."  
  
Willow turns her eyes to me, which have gotten noticeably darker, as has her hair. She gives me a "who, me?" look. "But she just wanted to be me. I'm just giving her what she wanted," she whines. "Besides, it's not like she's suffering anything I don't suffer. And I can't turn it off."  
  
"Willow - you're much stronger than she is. She can't handle it."  
  
Willow shrugs. "That will teach her then, won't it?"  
  
"Willow - she will die unless you stop it. Please, stop it. For me."  
  
Willow lets out an ostentatious sigh. "Whatever. I'm such a pushover, you know." She extends her hand, and a purple lightning bolt shoots from Amy back to Willow. Amy remains curled in a ball on the ground, but begins to moan and sob slightly.  
  
I quickly walk over to Willow and embrace her. "I love you so much," I say, and kiss her. I feel her body softly shake next to mine, sense her eyes turn back to normal, and her hair become fully red. Super Buffy and Daddy Giles, take note.  
  
She continues the kiss for a few seconds, then suddenly pulls away from me. She looks at the quivering heap that is Amy. "Oh, Goddess," she moans. I feel a wave of guilt and self-hatred coming from her.  
  
Crap.  
  
We need to get back to Buffy's house quickly. So we teleport into the living room - but using my power. Of course, I don't tell the SITs that detail.  
  
* * *  
  
There are, in fact, many details I don't tell in my expurgated, starry-eyed version of what happened. I tell them enough, though, to make the SITs wildly excited about mousy Willow totally kicking ass, and make Buffy, Dawn, and Giles sick to their stomach. It's also enough to make Buffy begin to feel guilty, and reinforce Giles's guilt.  
  
Xander, who has no guilt in this matter, gets the full mental broadcast of what really happened, so he can try to help her. Slightly edited to take out the "Special K" part, of course.  
  
"So yeah, it was really cool. And now, such a let down - but, well I really need to go the bathroom." The SITs giggle while Buffy, Dawn and Giles nod. Giles sends me a thought of the [I want the real story] variety, and I send him back a [yes, later].  
  
I dash upstairs, leaving the SITs dreaming of great magic battles, and that someday, they too, will be able to kick major ass. That's nice. Now I have other priorities to attend to.  
  
I rush into the bathroom, close the door, and begin listening to the conversation, both verbal and mental. It doesn't take me long to realize that something is very wrong. Xander tries to say something about "Kennedy," and Willow lashes back at him with "That's not her name! [how the hell do I know that? oh Goddess... no...]"  
  
I can feel her losing it, losing control. So I don't even need to hear Xander say "Willow, honey - your hair, it's turning black, and you're kind of getting that all scary-veiny look again..."  
  
I manage to cast a sound-dampening spell around the bedroom just in time to block an ear-splitting scream. I can sense Xander desperately thinking thoughts about yellow crayon stories. That's not going to work this time.  
  
Oh, Goddess. Please let me be right.  
  
I take a deep breath and charge into Willow's room. She's curled up in a ball, eyes jet black, hair black, veins turning black and swelling. Rivulets of black oil run out of her eyes, nose and ears.  
  
"Willow, sweetie?"  
  
Xander takes a quick breath. "See, Willow? Kennedy's here for you."  
  
Willow glares at me. "You... you're not human... you were in that field, on that temple... how do I know that..."  
  
"Willow, sweetie? Let's talk about this, okay?"  
  
She cuts me off. "I know you. I... I'm still grieving for Tara, but you're already in my heart... And there's more... I have these visions... memories... of all this death and destruction... that I caused..."  
  
I move towards her. "Get away from me!" she yells. "Who are you?"  
  
I take a deep breath. It's time for the truth to come out. "My name is Prospexa, Willow."  
  
She lets out a low whimper. "I knew that, but how... how do I know everything else...the memories, the killing, always the killing... oh Goddess..."  
  
She lets out a sharp gasp. I feel a massive surge of dark energy inside her. Now it's really showtime.  
  
The second she before she loses control, she lets out one final whisper.  
  
"Who am I?"  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... 


	4. Please Let Me Be Right

Chapter 4: Please Let Me Be Right  
  
There is one bit of good news about someone who has lost control of her powers to the extent that Willow has. She's too out of it to consciously try to kill you or attempt to end the world. So I don't have to worry about those complications, like I did last May.  
  
And indeed, all Willow was able to do was scream. She stopped screaming about thirty seconds ago, and collapsed face down to the floor. Now she's unconscious.  
  
The bad news is just about everything else. When someone completely loses control of dark magics, the human body starts breaking down, to be replaced by monstrous manifestations of dark energy. That's what's happening to my girl.  
  
And I'm not stopping it. That's the gamble I'm taking. Now that Willow has almost total recall, there is no way in hell that her human body will be able to handle the dark powers inside her and the pain of those memories simultaneously. She must become something stronger, and she must become something stronger now.  
  
Did I mention that I'm praying to the Goddess to let me be right?  
  
Despite the noise shield, Giles, Buffy and Dawn sensed the disturbance coming from the room. They rushed up the stairs and burst into the bedroom, where I promptly paralyzed them, along with Xander. They're good folks, all of them, but they are now officially out of their league. This is one problem they will not solve with a stake.  
  
I sense a commotion from the SITs below. They're very scared. Fortunately, they're comparatively clueless, so I can deal with them simply by knocking them out cold. I also put an ironclad barrier around the house, and cast a stealth spell on it so that the First's followers won't instantly perceive a magical billboard that Prospexa Is Here. Those are the easy parts. The core scoobies will be much harder to deal with. I can hear the thoughts screaming in their minds, most of which are blaming me for what's happened to their friend and running through various curses in battle plans in response. Even Xander. I'm disappointed. Then again, he didn't expect to see his best friend re-succumb to dark magic and sprawled out on the floor, spewing black liquid into an ever growing puddle. It wasn't on my agenda, either.  
  
I look at my girl, sprawled out on the floor. A steady stream of black oil continues to pour out of her nose into what has become a good sized puddle, but she's otherwise still and still breathing. She's entered what we call the "silent phase," so I have a few minutes to address the motionless crowd.  
  
I take a deep breath, and turn towards them. My eyes are bright violet. This gets their attention. Beyond the game face, I've added full body armor to this human avatar as well. I use both, and face them as the powerful demoness I really am.  
  
In the ensuing mental cacophony, I hear Buffy's thoughts the loudest. [Who are you? What are you? What have you done to Willow?] she mentally screams.  
  
[My name is Prospexa,] I mentally shout. [I am a demon goddess who has sworn rebellion against the First. I have done nothing to Willow. What you see is what Willow is doing to herself.]  
  
[What did you do to Kennedy?] yells Dawn.  
  
[Kennedy died months ago at the hands of the First's Bringers. I appropriated this body and rebuilt it for my purposes. It serves as my avatar in this world. Most of my body remains in my home dimension.]  
  
[What the hell do you want?] yells Buffy.  
  
[I want to defeat the First, like you. I have seen the First's path of total destruction and know where it leads. You have my word that I do not want to go there.]  
  
[You lie!] screams Buffy.  
  
[If you doubt me, I remind you that I could have helped burn this planet when Willow called on my power last May. I did not. Or perhaps Mr. Harris would like to explain how he suddenly appeared at Willow's precise location and managed to avoid being incinerated by her magical streams?]  
  
[Xander...]  
  
Xander's mind reels. [She's... right. But this wasn't supposed to happen!]  
  
[Xander, you knew about this and you didn't tell us? What the hell were you thinking?] screamed Buffy.  
  
[She... she told me not to... and I thought I could trust her... but you promised you'd protect Willow! You lied!]  
  
[I didn't lie. I failed.]  
  
[Why? What the hell did you do?]  
  
[Willow remembered. I didn't think she would.]  
  
Giles thinks in. [Remember? Remember what?]  
  
[I am not the only demon goddess in this room, Mr. Giles. There's another one, sprawled out on the floor in front of you.]  
  
[No. It can't be] shouts Xander. [I went to kindergarten with her. Hell, I went to... nursery school with her, for God's sake. She's completely human. She is no demon.]  
  
I sigh. [I expected this would be difficult for you. For all of you. You're right, her current body is human. But her soul and her powers are not. She is the reincarnation of a very powerful demon goddess. A goddess I was very close to in my home dimension.]  
  
I sense many minds reeling. Finally, Xander jumps in. [I don't believe you, but let's say you're right. What the hell is she remembering?]  
  
[Before we managed to free ourselves from our master, we were compelled to do some very bad things, up to the scale of what Willow attempted last May. Our memories of our acts of destruction... are very hard to deal with, even for a demon goddess. For a human already struggling with dark powers she doesn't understand, they are crushing.]  
  
Giles groans. [You... she... destroyed entire worlds?]  
  
[Yes, Mr. Giles. Much smaller ones than this Earth, but yes.]  
  
[But... how...]  
  
[We were slaves at the time, consumed with passions for destruction, Mr. Giles. That doesn't make it any easier to live with.]  
  
[Of the First?]  
  
[No. But of one of its major disciples.]  
  
[What happened to the disciple? Your master?]  
  
[We finally managed to free ourselves from it and destroy it, but Willow sacrificed herself in the process. You would have been proud of her - she is a great heroine in my world. She was reborn as who you see before you.]  
  
[This can't be] yells Xander. [It can't!]  
  
[Yes it is, Mr. Harris. And I would know. But I understand that I'm going to have a very hard time convincing you. You will just have to wait and see for yourself. And, assuming you want to help Willow, you'll need to pretend my story is true for the time being.]  
  
I can see Xander and the rest of the group struggle with their thoughts. But then it doesn't matter, because we're out of time. A low grumble comes from the floor. Ripples begin to appear in the puddle of black ooze.  
  
[What happens now?] yells Giles.  
  
[What I told you would happen, Mr. Giles. She dies. Then I try to save her.]  
  
I hear some of the worst mental screaming I have ever heard. I'm really sorry about this. Truly I am. But this needs to be done, and I need concentration. I shut their thoughts out and turn to my girl.  
  
Willow lets out a deep guttural moan. There's a loud cracking and ripping noise, and a fountain of black oil gushes vertically from her back and midsection. The fountain begins to freeze in midair, forming an H. R. Geiger interpretation of a weeping willow tree - if the weeping willow tree was from hell. Then the branches begin to turn into tentacles. There's another rustling sound as the remains of Willow's body suddenly crumbles and turns into dust, as if she had been a freshly-staked vampire.  
  
I let a tear run down my cheek. This incarnation of my girl - Willow Rosenberg - has just died.  
  
I have no time to blame myself or grieve, though. The tree is changing shape, gaining definition. Protrusions begin to form on the end of the tentacles. And what the protrusions are becomes clear - hideous, demonic faces.  
  
Buffy is stunned, left without coherent thoughts. She's seen the thing in front of her before. Not this one, exactly, but something almost identical.  
  
I sense Buffy remembering something Willow said, years ago, while sitting on a park bench outside Sunnydale High while nursing a nasty set of cuts and bruises. It was the day after they saved the world yet again, this time by defeating the Sisterhood of Jhe and chopping up the arch-demonic tentacled and multi-headed thing under the old school library. "I'll never forget that thing's real face," Willow said.  
  
And now Willow - the thing that had been Willow - had that face.  
  
What Buffy doesn't realize is that the thing is not attacking us. It's just sitting there, quivering. My girl is still inside there, still fighting. Oh, Goddess, I love her so much.  
  
I have to force myself to concentrate. I quickly walk over to Dawn and grab her arm.  
  
[What the hell are you doing?] she asks.  
  
[I need power to help Willow,] I say.  
  
I quickly speak the words of command that I spent years learning to master. Dawn's eyes burn a bright green, and the rest of her body glows with a lesser intensity. I feel the power of the Key flow into me. I give a sigh of relief - that was the part that had to go perfectly.  
  
I sense the others stare in awe at Dawn. I allow myself a brief bit of pride. [What, you think the Key is only for shredding the fabric of reality?] I say.  
  
I sense a tide of rising horror from Buffy.  
  
[Don't worry, Dawn is fine, aren't you?]  
  
[...umph... I feel like I have a power main through my chest... this better work... you'd better bring her back...]  
  
[I will.]  
  
I take a deep breath and begin scanning the thing. The pieces of my girl in there are pretty large, and fusing them back together won't be as difficult as I thought. I say one last prayer and begin the fusion process.  
  
* * *  
  
It takes me about ten minutes to fuse Willow's mind to a state where she regains a semblance of consciousness, and seal her from her memories enough that she doesn't break apart immediately. It then takes another five minutes to coax her into changing her form into a human-looking Willow. Black hair, black eyes, but definitely Willow.  
  
When the process is done, she looks up at me and moans softly. A black tear runs down her cheek.  
  
[I know it hurts, baby, but you have to be strong. You can be. For me, and for them.]  
  
I gently pick her up and place her on the bed. I kiss her on the forehead and cast one final spell. She falls into a deep sleep, without dreams. For a few hours, she will once again be at peace.  
  
[Rest now, love. You'll need it for what lies ahead.]  
  
Thanks to Dawn, I had enough power to find my girl inside that thing, and bring her back. It is only temporary, and she will have to decide where we go from here. But it is enough to give her the choice.  
  
And that's the real source of power. She said so herself.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... 


	5. Take the Red Potion

Chapter 5: Take the Red Potion  
  
Special Note: Apologies to a certain science fiction movie with two sequels and a collection of animated shorts coming out shortly.  
  
She's been asleep for several hours, now. That has been enough time to go through a thorough, complete, and highly painful grilling on the part of the core Scoobys. It has also been enough time to give the confused and scared slayers-in-training the best information and assurance I can, although mostly I just depress them more with the fact that another SIT is really dead. I don't dare tell them that if any of them are still alive at the end of this campaign, we will have been exceptionally lucky.  
  
I also have enough time to prepare the two tools I need. The first is a potion that glows a sickly red. There are other preparations that go along with the red potion, and I made those arrangements as well. The second is an enchanted sword. In the next hour, I will use one of them on Willow. She will choose which one.  
  
One of these tools represents the correct choice, although I can't force her to make it. Instead, I will take one person with me to help persuade Willow to make the right decision. I'd like to take all the core Scoobys with me, but any more than two people and Willow might panic and collapse, at which point the incorrect choice will become the only option. After much discussion of what the choices are with the Scoobys, and an intense psychoanalysis of Willow, I have decided to take Buffy with me.  
  
I'm not 100% sure of my decision. I don't fully trust her, considering what happened last May. But, she's my best option. Giles is right out. I greatly appreciate Mr. Harris's abilities, but I need her to embrace her power this time, not push it away like last May. I gave some thought to Dawn, but one of Willow's most painful memories is trying to kill Dawn while insane with black magic poisoning. That will not lead her to "awakening the giant within."  
  
Only Buffy can make the case I need to have made. That's because she alone realizes something very important about Willow, something that not even Xander has picked up. The rest think Willow's problems are caused by her secretly craving power, and losing herself to the thing that gave her power as a result. Willow thinks this, too, which is why I'm so concerned that she'll choose poorly.  
  
Buffy knows that's wrong - she's the one who secretly craves power, and she recognizes that Willow is not like her. In this case, it's not about the power. It's about affection and approval.  
  
* * *  
  
I walk into the bedroom with Buffy, just in time to hear Willow stir. I place the two tools onto a TV table next to the bed, being especially careful not to spill the potion. Buffy and I sit down on the bed next to Willow. I bend down and kiss her forehead. Willow's eyelids open, and two orbs of coal look at me.  
  
"I'm not breathing," she whispers. "Am I dead?"  
  
"No," I whisper. "You've been transformed into a magical being, so you don't need to breathe anymore."  
  
Technically, she did "die," and was immediately reincarnated as a black- magic powered demon, but there are some details I don't dare say or even think right now.  
  
"Then why does it still hurt so much, like I'm dying?"  
  
"Willow, listen to me. You are dying." I whisper. "Your body is not stable as it is, and will soon collapse. When it does, you may become a threat to the world again." She groans. "But it doesn't have to be that way, Willow, if you're strong enough."  
  
She gives me a look of complete despair. "But I'm not strong, Kennedy, I'm weak, I gave into the dark magics again..."  
  
"Willow, please let her finish," says Buffy. She's more helpful than I thought.  
  
"I know how bizarre and painful this is for you, Willow. You might not believe it, but the truth is I've been there. I got through it, and you can, too."  
  
She sighs. "How, Kennedy?" she whispers.  
  
"Before, you asked me who you really are, Willow. Would you like to know?"  
  
"I... guess so..."  
  
"Good. Unfortunately, I can't explain it to you, Willow - you would not be able to comprehend it in your current state. You have to become it - experience who you are for yourself."  
  
She looks confused for a second, and then I see a flash of understanding.  
  
"You know that you can't stay as you are, Willow." I say. She nods. "You've reached the end of the road. It all has to change in the next few minutes. How it changes is up to you. You have a choice."  
  
Willow looks at me. I gesture towards the TV table, and Willow's eyes follow suit.  
  
"Choice number one is this sword. If you want, I use it to kill you, sending your soul into the Great Beyond. This story ends, and what happens next is not up to any of us."  
  
She gasps. Then she begins to look longingly at the sword. Oh, Goddess. I quickly move onto choice two.  
  
"Choice number two is this red potion. It will turn you into an entity much more permanent - something stronger. Drink it, and I show you who you really are."  
  
She blinks a few times. "What about choice number three? Can't you turn me back into an ordinary human?"  
  
"No. You yourself know that's impossible."  
  
She lets out an awful laugh. "So I either die - or I become a monster. That's a hell of a choice, Kennedy." Before I can say anything, she continues.  
  
"Not that becoming a monster would be that much different - I'm already a monster." She begins to cry. "All I wanted was to be powerful. I desired it. I practically sold my soul for it. It was the one thing I craved - prayed for. And now I've got it." She sobs. "I'm so evil... I wish..."  
  
Oh, Goddess. Come on, Prospexa, if Mr. Harris can think of Yellow Crayon stories that work, so can you...  
  
"Oh, waah. Look at me, I'm feeling so sorry for myself. Stop it," snaps Buffy. Willow is taken aback. She looks positively insulted. But she stops sobbing.  
  
"Willow, I'm only going to say this once, so you'd better listen. If you don't, I'll have Kennedy cast a silence spell on you." Willow stares at Buffy angrily, but doesn't say anything. "I know you think you're evil because you crave power. But you're not. You don't want power, Willow. Deep down you know you don't. What you really want is approval. You just want people to like you - love you. And you secretly think nobody does, most of all yourself."  
  
Willow nods softly, a tear running down her cheek. She begins to say something, and Buffy promptly silences her.  
  
"Don't you dare say that," snaps Buffy. "We love you, Willow. We need you. You're witty, smart, beautiful, wise, and when you aren't wrapped up in pity parties for yourself, one of the most moral and decent people I've ever met. You have the ability to understand us - understand me - more than anyone, even Xander. You're our foundation, Willow - and, yes, our big gun. So again, we love you, Willow. I love you. I need you. So if you dare try to commit suicide, I'll kill you."  
  
Willow is taken aback. It practically rips my heart out that she's actually surprised to hear someone saying something like this.  
  
"But... if I do take the potion, and become something permanently magical... won't I become evil by definition?"  
  
"Do I look evil to you?" I snap.  
  
"Kennedy - no, of course, not, Oh Goddess, I didn't mean that..."  
  
"Then you most certainly don't have to be evil, either." I say. "I'm not turning you into a vampire, Willow. You'll still have your soul - the most important part of you, the only real part, will still be you."  
  
"So I don't have to be evil if I..."  
  
"No. Virtue has no master, Willow."  
  
"Thank you, Plato," says Willow. "Okay. But then if I become fully magical and have all that 'big gun' power, won't I totally lose control again?"  
  
"No. Willow, a big part of your problem is that your human body isn't strong enough for your magical powers. Once your body is better suited for your powers, the continual craving to use your powers will go away. And so will most of the pain."  
  
"Most?"  
  
"You'll still have your own feelings, Will. I can't protect you from that, and Goddess forbid me if I ever want to. But the torment caused by the magic trying to escape your body will vanish."  
  
She nods, but I can see she's still deciding, still weighing the options, still trying to delay. Suddenly, she's wracked by a horrible cough, and a splotch of black ink appears on the covers. More black oil begins to run out of the corner of her mouth.  
  
"Willow, sweetie, your current body won't last for much longer. You have to decide now. And don't even ask me what I want you to choose. I... love you, Willow. I have for a very long time. I know this is sudden, but I do. More than you can imagine. Please."  
  
She looks at Buffy. "Like I said. Choose the sword and I'll kill you."  
  
She looks at me. I try to avoid crying, powerful hell goddess that I am. I almost succeed.  
  
She mentally attempts to take a deep breath, then remembers she doesn't breathe anymore.  
  
[It's going to be okay,] she thinks.  
  
My heart is pounding.  
  
And she makes her choice. She sits up, takes the cup of potion off of the table and begins to drink, then pulls away.  
  
"Yuck. That's the most awful stuff I've ever tasted. Couldn't you have put some Kool-Aid in it or something? I'm trying to be like, all brave and noble and self-esteemy here, Kennedy, and you could have at least helped a little." She gives me a pout.  
  
"I'm sorry, Will, but the potion has to be made precisely, with no additives allowed. And you do have to drink it all. Just hold your nose and chug it."  
  
She wrinkles her nose, but does as she's told. As she swallows the last drop, my heart begins to slow down. Now we just need to get through the next few minutes.  
  
"Buffy," I say, "thank you. You don't know... how much what you just did means to me. We need to be alone, now, so I can complete the spell."  
  
Buffy looks unsure, and looks at Willow. The witch nods, and Buffy turns and leaves. As she does, I cast a heavy-duty barrier around the room. The group will sense nothing and will not be able to come in. They don't want to see what will happen next.  
  
I sit down on the bed next to Willow, and softly make her lie down next to me. I wrap my arms around her and gently kiss her. She's starting to shiver; the potion is taking effect. I grab my cell phone, and make a special, very long distance call, using the special "voice free / thought only" option. [She just swallowed the potion. It will only be a few minutes. Be ready.]  
  
[We're good,] comes the reply, which I recognize is from one of my most faithful attendants. [Stand by.]  
  
"So, now I just sit here, and the potion turns me into a less icky thing?"  
  
"Not exactly," I say, "but that's the final result."  
  
Willow looks at me, and starts to shake harder. "What did I just swallow, tell me..."  
  
"Sssh.." I whisper. "I know it hurts. And it's going to hurt worse. But don't fight it. Please, Willow, the best thing to do right now is just let it happen."  
  
"What the hell..."  
  
"It's not going to transform your body, Willow. Your new body is waiting in another dimension. My home dimension, and yours."  
  
"What the..."  
  
"The potion you swallowed will separate your soul and your power from your current, semi-dead body. Then we'll guide your free soul into its new body."  
  
Willow lets loose a scream, both from shock at what I've just told her as well as the violent pain now racking her body. [Just another few minutes, sweetie, and it will all be over.] She moans, and thinks something obscene about me. At least she's keeping her spirits up.  
  
But then I look above me. I see ceiling. This is not good. I think into my phone.  
  
[Lord Clementine, we need that portal opened very soon. Now would be a good time.]  
  
[Still working on it,] he says. [Should be open soon.] I hear a crunching noise over the phone.  
  
Willow moans again, clearly in agony. Her body is beginning to glow.  
  
[Lord Clementine, if that portal isn't opened in time, your next several thousand years are going to be very unpleasant. So I strongly suggest you put down the potato chips and...]  
  
Thank Goddess he interrupts me. [Got it! Opening now.]  
  
Suddenly, the ceiling is replaced with a large portal, complete with swirling blue clouds and intermittent lightning. Normally I'm not a fan of portals, but this time I'm overwhelmed with joy to see one.  
  
[Activating guide channel.]  
  
An intense white beam shoots from out of the portal, hitting Willow squarely in the chest. Her body jerks up and her eyes open wide. She shakes violently. The potion has almost finished its work.  
  
I kiss her forehead one last time. [Please, Willow. Don't fight it any more. It's time for you to go.]  
  
[Will you be there with me? Can I see my friends, too?] she asks.  
  
[Yes and yes. I promise.]  
  
Her body sinks back on the bed, and for the first time in a long time she smiles. Her eyes softly close. As they do, a brilliant plume of white and purple energy emerges from her chest, following the beam into the portal.  
  
The beam shuts off. Willow's body - just a used shell now - bursts into ashes, its job finally done forever.  
  
I allow myself a quick look at the bed, where the temporary body of Willow Rosenberg had been, and jump into the portal. After all, I have a promise to keep.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... 


	6. Back in the High Life

Chapter 6: Back in the High Life  
  
Willow Rosenberg:  
  
Agonizing pain shoots through my body. I'm dying for a second time. That's not such a bad thing, right now, you know? At least then it will be over.  
  
No, Willow. Don't think about the pain. Think, brave, noble, self-esteemy thoughts. If nothing else, do it for them. "I'm brave, noble, and gosh darn it, people like me!" Besides, I'm thinking of silly SNL quotes rather than destroying the world, so that's got to mean something.  
  
Think about the pretty portal above me. It's very nice, a soft blue with clouds and lightning. There's something forming in it. It's a white beam - and it's hitting me right in the chest. It's finishing what the red potion started. I'm slipping away, leaving the remains of this body. I can feel it.  
  
Kennedy kisses my forehead. I don't want to go.  
  
[Please Willow, don't fight it any more. It's time for you to go,] she thinks.  
  
[Will you be there with me? Can I see my friends, too?] I ask.  
  
[Yes and yes. I promise.] I hope she's right.  
  
I give in, relax, and let it happen. And for instant all I feel is peace. Then I see a plume of energy rise out of my body - then an explosion of white and purple and blue lights and crackling lightening - and I don't see or hear or anything anymore.  
  
* * *  
  
The first thing that hits me as I regain consciousness is that the pain in my head that's tortured me for months is gone. So is the never-ending urge to lose control again and become an instrument of destruction. I can feel a slight humming through my body, but that's about it.  
  
I also check to see if the visions of destruction that flooded through my mind are still there. They are - but now they seem to be in focus, like real memories that will allow me to figure out who I am. But I'm not ready for that just yet.  
  
Kennedy was right. This body has its good points. So I open my eyes and try to inspect my new body. Then the second thing hits me.  
  
I'm huge!  
  
Literally. I'm propped up on four limbs, as if that's the most natural thing in the world. I try to move my head around - and it's easy to do, because I now have a long neck. I have bright green scales - and what look like red wings. I unfold them automatically. They are red wings, and enormous ones at that.  
  
I look around, and I'm in an enormous cavern, with an open-air entrance at one end. The walls are mostly covered with ornate tapestries - except for a large patch featuring a mirror instead. I tentatively lumber over to the mirror with my eyes closed. I slowly open them.  
  
My newly expanded jaw with sharp pointy teeth almost drops the floor. I'm a dragon! A big one! I'm like Puff the Magic Dragon, but Super Puffy!  
  
I sense something from the open-air entrance. I lumber over and look out... and I see where I am, on some kind of cliff face, Goddess, it has to be a drop of more than a mile down, I can't even see the bottom, just clouds... I look up and around and I see more caverns in the cliff face, and there are flying creatures all around, thousands of them, perhaps hundreds of thousands. They're of all different kinds, big ones and small ones, things that look like birds, gas balloons, flying foxes, things that don't even have wings but seem to be flying on some type of energy... and even a few more dragons... They don't just fly, they make huge amounts of noise, too, I'm hit with a solid wall of sound. It's not just sound, it's telepathy, too, it's deafening and blinding at the same time... I pick out a few bits... what, it can't be, Goddess they're all about me...  
  
A huge noise and thought wave deafens everything else out. [SHE HAS RETURNED, BUT IS EXHAUSTED. HEAR MY WILL, LEAVE HER IN PEACE FOR NOW.] And with that, the clouds of flying creatures break off and fly away. I sink my head down to the sill of the chamber, when I'm hit by an urge to jump out and join them... I mean, hey, I've got wings and stuff, that must mean I can fly.  
  
That urge is silenced by another deafening thought. [NOT YET, SWEETIE. YOU WON'T REMEMBER HOW YET.] The thought's right, of course. Sigh. I slink away from the opening.  
  
Let's see if I can remember how to fly.  
  
Bad move - all of those memories suddenly come flooding in. Waves of dark images of chaos and destruction flood through my mind. But a few really stand out...  
  
* * *  
  
I'm a little child - I look like a humanoid - oh, it doesn't matter, I'm a little girl. A girl with wings, though. See, I knew I could fly. I lived an ordinary life in an ordinary village until everything got ripped apart. Our village was hit by some sort of raid by a - what was that, right, a witch goddess, with wild hair and piercing eyes. She was helped by an army of things that had the head of a vulture and the body of a human, but the arms had blades on the end of them rather than hands. The adults tried to fight them, but there were too many. They all died, all of them - my house was the last one left.  
  
And then she was there. The witch goddess. She waved her hands, and my parents flew into the back wall of the house.  
  
I was hiding under the table, but something came over me. I ran out towards the witch goddess. "No!" I screamed, "I won't let you hurt Mommy and Daddy!"  
  
The witch looked at me and gave me a horrid grin. It was the first time I saw it - I'd see it again and again for a thousand years. "What a brave little girl! You'll do just fine. I'll fix you up but good, dearie, you'll see. Protect her and kill the rest." And then everything went black.  
  
* * *  
  
I'm far from being a child. I belong to her, the witch goddess. I'm her greatest servant, the second most powerful being in her empire. I have no thoughts but death and destruction on her command. I am her goddess of oblivion.  
  
She tells me we need a third to make her rule complete and everlasting. And so we find herself in another village, in another house, with another brave little girl.  
  
"No," she screams. "I won't let you hurt my sisters!"  
  
The witch goddess looks over at me. Same twisted grin. "Remind me of anyone you know, dearie?"  
  
"Yes, Your Highness. She does."  
  
"What's your name, little dear," the goddess asks.  
  
"Prospexa," says the little girl. "And don't you forget it, because I'm going to kick your butt! Daddy says I'm the fiercest fighter!" She leaps into a fighting pose.  
  
It was the cutest thing imaginable. If I'd had a sense of humor, I would have burst out laughing. But in that century I didn't. I move to kill the threat to my Queen.  
  
"Dearie, hold back! No, no, she's just what I've been looking for. I'll fix her up but good. She's going to be your new sister. Protect her and kill the rest."  
  
The little girl screams. I ignore it and go about following the orders of my mistress.  
  
* * *  
  
I'm hit by another memory, this one from my just-done life. It's from almost two years ago. Buffy has just given a totally defeated Quentin Travers a drink.  
  
"Glory isn't a demon," he says. "She's a god."  
  
* * *  
  
I don't know how it happened. I do know it took a long time.  
  
I do remember the first time I had a glimmer of thought beyond the craving for destruction and the desire to serve my mistress.  
  
It was another village, in another house, with another brave little girl. I followed my ruler's orders and left her entrails smeared on the ceiling. And I realized that I hadn't wanted to do it. She'd been too much like me, and my "sister."  
  
* * *  
  
"Glory's from a particularly nasty hell dimension," said Quentin. "They called her the Beast, and still do."  
  
* * *  
  
It took a long time for Prospexa, too. But one day she did the unthinkable. There was a brave little girl - oops, sorry, it was a brave little boy in her case - whose entrails she didn't smear on the wall. She let the boy go.  
  
Our ruler was livid, and demanded I punish Prospexa.  
  
I couldn't. At the time, I didn't know why, but I couldn't bear the thought of hurting her. And so, at the complete risk of my life, I cast a cloaking spell around the two of us, and set about my "mission." I pounded and scratched at the wall of the Queen's torture chamber, and made Prospexa scream at appropriate moments. When it was over, I threw gallons of blood on the floor, so the witch goddess would believe I had tortured Prospexa, beating and cutting her until she almost died. Just as the Queen had ordered.  
  
I had no idea why I was so compelled to spare her.  
  
* * *  
  
"Glory ruled over a particularly nasty hell dimension with two other goddesses. She was the most powerful, though, and directly commanded the other two for over a thousand years."  
  
* * *  
  
A few decades later, Prospexa and I risked our lives again. But this time it was for a totally different reason.  
  
As we lay together for our first time, I knew why I had spared her so many years ago - it was an emotion called love.  
  
* * *  
  
"But something happened in that hell dimension. The other two goddesses rebelled against Glory, eventually defeating her and trapping her spirit in the body of a human baby."  
  
* * *  
  
And it so it was we eventually rebelled against our mistress. After a decade of war, we learned how to defeat Queen Glorificus once and for all. But victory came at a high price - I had to sacrifice myself to destroy the witch goddess.  
  
I remember Prospexa begging me not do it, letting her be the one instead. But the truth was, I was the more powerful one. I was the heavy destroyer, the one our former mistress called on to lay indiscriminate waste. Prospexa was the finesse killer, used when Glory wanted witnesses. So I had to be the one to die.  
  
Right before I burned, I somehow knew I wouldn't be going to the Great Beyond. I told her I'd come back, and that we'd be together again. Tears streaked in her eyes, Prospexa promised she'd find me, no matter what it took. And then everything went red, then blinding white, then black, and that life ended.  
  
* * *  
  
"Oh, Goddess!" I yelped, when Quentin was done. "At least we don't have to meet those other two hell goddesses. I can't imagine what they'd be like!"  
  
* * *  
  
I let out a laugh.  
  
* * *  
  
"Do we even know what the names of the other two goddesses are?" asked Giles.  
  
"No," said Quentin. "Not that it matters. I can't imagine that we'd even want to know anything about them."  
  
* * *  
  
Of course, I knew what the names of the other two goddesses were. One was Prospexa. The other's real name was a sequence of musical tones, for that was how her original tribe named themselves. But that was too hard for most of the residents of this dimension, including the Beast. So she had been renamed after the striking patterns on her wings, which looked just like weeping willow trees.  
  
Willow! Me!  
  
I'm... I'm a magical weapons system that went all rogue!  
  
I laugh again. And then tears run down my cheeks (big dragon ones, of course), as I think about everyone I killed over the centuries, and everyone who sacrificed so much to eventually triumph over Glorificus.  
  
And then I put those memories away, and think about someone else. Someone else who kept her promise to find me, and save me.  
  
Prospexa! Where is she?  
  
And suddenly, I hear her voice in my mind.  
  
[Yes, sweetie, I'm here. But you need to change from your warrior form into your normal form first. You should remember how.]  
  
I do, and soon I'm no longer a big dragon with city-obliterating capabilities, but a fairly ordinary looking woman, instead. I look in the mirror again, and I'm amazed how much I look like Willow Rosenberg. Okay, I have crests around my neck and ears, I have retractable claws in my fingers, and I have red wings, but other than that... wow. Of course, this is what I looked like before. Somehow my soul must have directed my appearance in my new human life.  
  
And then she's there with me, in front of the mirror.  
  
[Prospexa... you saved me. You came for me! You did!]  
  
[Yes, baby. I told you I would - that my love for you would find you, no matter how many dimensions I had to search through. I kept my promise.]  
  
And then there's nothing but kisses and tears and love.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... 


End file.
